


Purple Butterflies

by ladyflaneur



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Bisexual Matt Holt, Complete, Curtis/Shiro Wedding, Established Curtis/Shiro - Freeform, Established James Griffin/Pidge | Katie Holt, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay Keith (Voltron), Gay Shiro (Voltron), Implied/Referenced Character Death, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith/Lance (Voltron) Angst, Langst, M/M, Main Ship Keith/Lance, Minor Curtis/Shiro (Voltron), More Tags Will Come Up as I Feel, No Sex, No Smut, Past Allura/Lance (Voltron), Pining Keith (Voltron), Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, Short Story, Unrequited Matt/Shiro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-01-27 10:00:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21390289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyflaneur/pseuds/ladyflaneur
Summary: Allura is dead. Lance is broken. Keith is in love. The Blade of Marmora has kept them separated for three years. Shiro is getting married. Keith knows that he'll be there. And he has no idea what to do.(in which post-canon, lance and keith need to figure their shit out)
Relationships: Allura/Lance (Voltron), Curtis/Shiro (Voltron), James Griffin/Pidge | Katie Holt, Keith & Shiro (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron), Matt Holt & Keith, Matt Holt & Shiro
Comments: 16
Kudos: 77





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song of the chapter: "can i be him" by james arthur.
> 
> *i recommend listening to the song while reading!

Keith remembers when Lance was in his room that night.

When he had nowhere else to go after he’d lost Allura. When he was at rock bottom: scared, sad, yet solemn. The way he cried his hopeless plea. He feared himself in the events; his lover was gone. Dead. She was remembered, but still, not here to comfort him. He remembers all too vividly, how stained Lance’s shirt was by the end of it, all by his tears. How he choked on his words and tensed up his back and put his head in his hands and cried out in pure agony. Keith had never had a lover before. He had no idea how he could be helped. But seeing him so pained made Keith hurt almost as badly. He wanted to be there, but had no clue how. All he could do was leave him to it.

Keith remembers when Lance asked to stay in his room that night.

Not in a romantic way, he was sure to make that clear. But he couldn’t be alone for his own sake. Keith remembered how drained he looked as he prepared for bed. He didn’t look fatigued, but… void. He remembered how his body sank into the bed, curling into fetal and welcoming Keith to lay beside him. How weak his voice sounded as he muttered words of gratitude while laying. How just before he fell asleep, asked what the marks on his face meant. How he compared them to little butterflies.

Keith wishes he didn’t remember how it felt.

The tinge in his heart when he couldn’t embrace him. The amount of jealousy he felt towards a dead woman. The sheer amount he resented Lance’s tired eyes. The brush of his hair against his shoulders, teasing at what could have been there instead. How Lance’s face was just inches from his. How his lips grazed the skin on his forehead and the way the sleeping Lance muttered  _ her _ name in response. The way his own eyes poured in sheer pity. The odd feeling in him that he couldn’t quite pinpoint. He wishes he didn’t remember Lance’s limp fingers intertwined in his, wishing,  _ waiting _ for his awakening, praying he would clutch his fingers back. The amount of longing he felt towards what he knew he couldn’t have.

He wishes that he could forget about it all. Yet, his wishes always seemed to fail him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is very short because it is only for exposition purposes. don't worry, the others are much longer <3


	2. Sunset Cigarettes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song of the chapter: "cigarette break" by gavin james.
> 
> *i recommend listening to the song while reading the chapter

Keith left for the Blade of Marmora. He hasn’t seen Lance since. He has not spoken to Lance since. But he will be seeing him soon, he knows. Shiro’s wedding date is approaching, and it would take an idiot not to realise that he’d be there. If he was correct, he would be part of the wedding court, just like Keith was. If he could just forget, this would be easy. But he couldn’t. For some god forsaken reason, he just couldn’t.

Matt was with him when he expressed it.

Matt was a strong leader of the Rebellion, which often worked with the Blade. In these past two years, he was the closest to Keith. What always struck him a bit strange was that Keith always kept in close contact with everyone except Lance. For the longest time, he assumed it was a petty rivalry; a long term dispute that had yet to be ended. So, he never brought it up. It wasn’t his problem. While he did expect to see some change in behaviour in Keith as the date came closer, what he saw was quite the opposite of what he anticipated. He expected signs of anger. What he was were signs of distress.

That’s when Matt realised it. But he’d never tell him. He would wait to see for himself.

Besides, if anyone were to know about unrequited love, it would be him. Keith sure as hell never let him forget that.

“So, how does it feel to be the Best Man at your crush’s wedding?” Keith asked one day.

“Honest answer? Like a kick in the balls,” he sat on the couch in his workshop as Keith continued to inspect a mineral. “But I’m happy for Shiro. I really am. I’ll probably get drunk and cry about it for a while that night, but I all I want is for him to get what he wants. And if it’s not me, then… I can accept that. Why do you ask?”

Keith laughed. “For the sheer irony of it. Sounds like the plot of a movie,” he encased the metal he was working on and left to sit next to him. “Best of luck to you. Can’t say that I think that I’d be able to handle it.”

“I never said that I’m sure I will be. I’m most certainly unstable. But this is what he wants, so I’ll support it,” he jokingly flung his back against his lap and swooned his hand over his head. “Haven’t you ever been in love, my dear?”

Keith smiled, but proceeded to elbow him and push him up. “Ew! You’re disgusting! That's it, I’m going on my cigarette break.”

He stood up to head towards the balcony of the ship. Well, not the balcony, per se. It was the faux-balcony the engineering team implemented after their time on Earth. It was simply a huge dome fashioned to look like a window. With a few simple commands on a remote, it could display whatever scenery you could think of. As long as the vents were open, Keith could smoke there as much as he wanted. If it was kept tidy, nobody had a problem with it. Nobody except Matt and his asthmatic ass.

Keith had barely inputted his favourite setting—desert sunset—before Matt had strolled in, announcing his presence with a booming cough. “Jesus Christ, didn't you say you were going to quit those things?”

“I was. Until all this wedding shit came up. Now they're just to cope,” he took a long breath inwards before choking slightly and blowing back out. “You know, if these bother you, you can always leave. I normally smoke alone anyways.”

“I’ll be fine. Ventilation on this ship is pretty good, as far as I can tell. If all else fails, there’s a medical wing.”

“Taking up the medical wing for a fully preventable cause? For shame, Matthew.”

“Stop using my full name. It sounds gross.”

Keith chuckled. Although significantly older, Matt always acted like a child. From sneering at Keith’s humour to his use of his full name, he always put up a fuss. Of course, it was always a joke. Nothing serious. Why? Keith would never know. He just wanted to smoke in silence. If Matt wouldn’t leave, there was only one thing that could shut him up.

He pulled the pack out of his pocket and gestured it towards his counterpart. “Try one?”

“Are you stupid?”

“Since 1992.”

“I can’t have that shit. We were literally just talking about it.”

“That’s exactly it. Don’t talk. Do whatever the hell you want, but leave me and my cigarette time be. Stay here, have one yourself--I don’t give a shit--but this time is the only time I get to myself on this ship. I’d prefer to keep it that way.”

“Yeesh, somebody is bitter.”

“Just take the damn cigarette, Matt. You’ll see what I mean.”

Matt shrugged and obliged. To his surprise, it wasn’t all that bad. One time wouldn’t hurt him. It was actually kind of nice. It made him feel calm. Like he was at peace. Just staring at the sunset (which was shockingly realistic), slowly exhaling the toxic air. He suddenly understood why Keith liked this so much. It was a relaxing time, where he really could focus on himself. With everything he did with the Rebellion, it was a rare occasion. But, the fact that he became so calm so quickly made him surprisingly anxious. “Oh my god, are these laced?”

“Dear lord, Matt, they are not laced. They’re regular cigarettes. Isn’t it nice? Just thinking? Shows how much you’ve been missing,” Keith paused before continuing, just breathing in the moment. He knew that soon, he’d be deprived of these moments for a few days. Maybe weeks. It all depended on how long he would be permitted to be gone. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with all of this wedding stuff coming up. I don’t know how Shiro expects me to leave work for so long for something so frivolous. How does he even have the time to get married? I mean, he conducts field studies at the Garrison, for Christ’s sake. That’s not something you can just stop doing.”

“Oh, so now you want to make conversation?”

Keith blatantly ignored him. “I think it’s all bullshit. How does he even know that this Curtis guy is the one? They’ve barely been together for two years. They both work so heavily. I don’t understand how they expect this to work out.”

“I don’t think that’s exactly your place to say, Keith.”

Keith was completely pacing at this point. “And to just expect all of us to drop everything to see what? A ‘magical kiss?’ He’s lucky that I love him, otherwise I wouldn’t be willing to go out of my way for a stupid wedding that’s on a completely different planet. I honestly wish that I didn’t have to go.”

It was then that Matt figured him out. He knew that he wouldn’t insult Shiro if somebody paid him to do it. There was some bigger reason as to why he didn’t want to go. Whether it be physical or mental, Keith had a personal reason the be negative towards it. And such a sudden burst of emotion meant that it wasn’t just Keith being Keith; there was a problem and he was passionate about it. Matt didn’t know what the reason was. He wasn’t even sure that Keith did. Whatever it was, it was serious enough for it to bring something like this out of him. And he had absolutely no idea what to do about it.

Only time would tell.


	3. Bloodshot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song of the chapter: "Jesus in LA" by alec benjamin  
*i recommend listening to the song while reading the chapter!

Lance was a dancer. He'd danced before, but never actively; it was always just mindless fun. After Allura died, it was Keith who comforted him. After Keith left, he had to turn his head towards other things. 

He danced for his family, to embrace what his mother never could. He danced for society, trying to break the stigma that only women could move their bodies the way that he did. He danced for himself, to forcefully keep his endorphins high. He danced for love, to be able to embody the very thing that he never could have.

Lance had rebounds. He had one night stands. He danced in late night shows and explicit venues. He was a seductress, to women and men alike. Men, whom he'd only gotten involved with in desperation of lust. Whom he wasn't actually sure sparked an interest in him so much as sex. 

He wasn't proud, but it paid the bills, at the very least.

There was a regular; a middle-aged Asian man that only Shiro knew about. Lance hated him with a burning passion. He hated what he did. Sex was void. Love was void. And Shiro never let him forget that he shared a striking similarity with somebody else they knew. 

All it did was make Lance hate both men more.

It was the sixth night that Lance was forced to stay with him just that month. He wishes he could just say no when he was called. Prostitution was illegal. He could amount to so much more. But anyone he'd ever slept with told him that it would be worthless. That he was too beautiful. Too talented. Too perfect at what he already did to even attempt anything else. All he had to do was bed a few people, and he was making more than all of his Garrison friends did. So, what was the point?

Lance left his apartment, too exhausted to even cry. The past few months had been like this. He'd only gotten into prostitution recently, out of sheer desperation for money. Now, for the first time in three years, he felt just as empty as he did back then. The only thing that could bring any semblance of emotion was dance. So, he arrived in his apartment, damn well past midnight, and turned on his speakers. If his neighbours had anything to say about it, they could talk to him later.

His favourite style was contemporary. It was the only style that never shone through in bed. Besides, he needed to practice his routine for Shiro’s wedding anyway.

He wasn't playing the song he was supposed to be dancing to. But tonight, it was all he wanted to listen to. 

It was really just improv, but it felt nice to move his body in a way that wasn't lustful. It was a distraction, to throw out his arms and move his legs against the floor and run his fingers through his hair. Three minutes of distraction. Three minutes of emotion. But when the three minutes ended, he was finally able to feel. And he wishes that he couldn't.

The rush of hatred. Guilt. Anger. It was the worst thing that he'd ever experienced. So many things that flooded through his mind that if things ended right there, he would be happy. Everything that he'd done in the past three years. He hated it.

How did his life managed to get so fucked?

In a moment of vulnerability, he spoke. He fell to his knees and screamed out. “ _ Mamá… _ no puedo hacerlo. Mi vida es terrible. Yo soy una persona horrible que hace cosas horribles. Te extraño,  _ mamá _ . Me gustaría que estés conmigo. Te necesito aquí. Eras la persona sola que me entendía. Por favor, ayudame. Quiero dormir para siempre. No entiendo ya que hacer.

“Por favor, por favor, por favor, por favor…”

And he did fall asleep like that. But it wasn't the forever that he wished for.

\----------

“Tablescapes, colour, texture… ugh, this is all so difficult!”

“Now, now, Curtis, what's the fun in any of it being easy?”

“Yeah, sure, easy for you to say. You get to sit back and relax like you're not even getting married,” Curtis threw his brochure to the ground and sat next to Shiro on his chaise. “I swear, I'm going to cancel this rehearsal dinner tomorrow. Why do we need so many preparations for one meal?” He leaned on Shiro’s shoulder and and shut his eyes. “You're lucky I love enough for the whole white-wedding scheme. You're the only one who makes this worth it.”

Shiro laughed. “Excuse, who suggested it in the first place? And besides, I've offered to help you with this rehearsal a thousand times. You're the one who keeps rejecting it,” he adjusting his reading glasses and brushed Curtis off of his shoulder. “Come on, now. You have a dinner to finish preparing and I have other places to be,” he placed a soft kiss on his forehead before brushing himself off and standing up. “I’ll see you tonight, darling.”

Shiro didn't actually have somewhere else to be. He had a hunch. And sure enough, Lance was sitting outside the exit doors to the venue. He was wearing dirty clothes that appeared to be too big on him, with unwashed hair and tear stained skin. He looked horrible, which is exactly why Shiro needed to help him.

He didn't even look at him. “Get in my car,” was all that he had to say.

It was stormy outside, making the driving conditions not ideal, but he didn't care. He didn't even know where he was taking him. “Talk to me. What's going on?”

Lance was silent for a few moments before he replied, as if he was deciding what to say. “Nothing is wrong. I'm fine.”

“Yes, because people that are ‘fine’ drive an hour and a half out to my wedding venue with eyes so bloodshot, that if I didn't know you, I think that you'd be high. ‘Fine’ people have lost ten pounds in two months and can't speak when I ask them a question. So, tell me, what's really going on?”

“I-- I don't even know, Shiro. I don't know why I came here. I guess I just wanted sympathy? Everything is so fucked up right now and I don't know what to do about any of it. You're the only person that makes me feel like I can escape it.”

Normally, Shiro would call him out for language, but he was familiar with his situation. He wanted to be there for him, he really did, and yet…

“Lance, you know that I love you and that I would do anything for you, but you can't keep doing this. If you hate everything so much, you need to do something to change it. I already told you, I can secure you a position at--”

“If only it were that easy. It's not like they would just leave me alone. I can't escape this anymore. It’s not like getting a new job is going to make all of that,” he slightly gestured, and Shiro understood what he meant, “feel any better.”

“You just need to see, I promise that there’s so much more to it than that.”

“Yeah, right. ‘Making love’ is a bunch of bullshit. It's a quick bang and then you're done. It feels good at first but then you realise what you've done and then you feel like garbage. It's all that ever happens.”

“It's all that ever happens because it's all that you've ever known.”

Shiro knee the number one thing that Lance needed. Before a new job, a new living space, or a new haircut, he needed somebody to show him what actual love was. Not in a platonic way, but for somebody to be there for him and show it that there could easily be love in the very thing that made him feel hatred. If somebody could prove that to him, everything else would be easy. Lance, however, was stubborn, and it wasn't like there were many candidates. Ever since Allura died, the once-flirty Lance hadn't shown interest in anyone. Funny, for someone whose whole career is sex.

Maybe  _ that’s _ why it made him hate himself so much.

The rain—still heavily pouring—caused Shiro to pull over on the road. After they were stopped, he was finally able to meet Lance’s eyes again. And God, how he wished that he didn't have to. 

People say that there's beauty in brokenness. To him, it was a flat out lie.

Lance could be beautiful. Time ago, he was. Inside and out, he had the beauty. His brokenness was the reason that it was gone. Lance could easily be fixed, but the matter was, was he willing to be?

“Lance, that’s it! I don't care if you’ll hate me for it, but I care way too much for you to be living like this! Look at you, you're torturing yourself! You're staying with me and Curtis until I get you a new place to live. You're getting a new number and a real job. You deserve so much better than the hell on earth that you're going through now. Right now, you're too empty to realise it, but I’m going to find someone who can prove it to you. Get your chin up. This all ends now.”

Shiro never raised his voice, nor did he ever use exclaiming tones. To be honest, towards a kid like Lance, he didn't even think that his body would let him. Desperate times called for desperate measures, he supposed. 

He put the car back in gear, and despite his lack of vision, he kept going.

“Shi… ro? Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you back to your apartment so you can pack everything up and say goodbye to everything that's haunting you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> translation for lance's speech:
> 
> "mom, i can't do it. my life is terrible. i'm a horrible person that does horrible things. i miss you, mom. i wish that you could still be with me. i need you here. you were the only person that understood me. please, help me. i want to go to sleep forever. i don't know what to do anymore."
> 
> *if any native speakers see any errors in the spanish part, please let me know! i'm still learning spanish so i mess up a bit.
> 
> *la gente cuyo primer idioma es español, verían errores, dime para que puedo arreglarlo. todavía estoy aprendando, así que no es perfecto. ¡gracias!


	4. Prologue: Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song of the chapter: "everybody hurts" by jasmine thompson
> 
> *you already know the drill haha

Lance remembers that night a little differently. 

After she was gone, he couldn't even describe how he felt. The emotions he had were completely new and he wished that he would never have to experience them again. Keith was the only one out of any of them that could pull him out of that spiral. He was understanding. If he wanted help, he knew how he could get it.

Lance remembers why he asked to stay with Keith that night.

He wasn't sure why, but that night, it was like something was calling him to Keith. He allowed his request, but Keith was acting very strangely. He seemed nervous, in a way. Yet somehow, for some strange reason, he made Lance feel loved. It wasn't romantic, but it was an emotion that he lacked with her gone. He remembers how Keith gave him blankets and warm clothes and a place to sleep in. He remembers how he was taken care of. How solemnly he reacted when he was inquired about the butterflies.

Lance wishes that he could still remember how it felt.

If he could've kept the feeling, things wouldn’t be the way that they are now. That night, he felt a kind of compassion that he hasn't felt towards anyone before. He wasn't even quite sure of what it was, and not towards one person in his life has he felt it towards since. How with somebody that he'd only had tension with in the past made him feel comforted enough to sleep more soundly that he had in years. How when he was dreaming, his dreams with Allura felt so real. How he could feel her hand in his and her lips on his forehead so much that it’s hard for him to believe that nobody was actually touching him. How for one last night, she was with him. And for that night, he was taken care of by somebody else that he knew would be important to him, but he was still gone the next day.

He wishes that things would've never changed. Yet, his wishes always seemed to fail him.


	5. Grey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song of the chapter: "make you feel my love" by adele  
*if you choose to listen while you read, start at phrase "tail, frail, tipsy" (cause this chapter is kinda long).

Fancy clothes never pleased Keith. They weren’t something that his profession ever required him to wear. They were itchy, hot, and overall just unnecessary. Clothes like that were made “change” people; to make them look and feel better. For Keith, they certainly didn’t change a thing. Because here he was, sitting in the car in them, feeling just as annoyed as ever.

Shiro sent a car to pick Keith and Matt up for the rehearsal dinner. Matt, however, decided to abstain from this event. Said that he “didn’t want to see Shiro in a suit longer than he had to,” or something along the lines of that. Keith wasn’t paying attention, nor did he really care, but it meant that the only person that could make tonight any less awful was gone. Shiro would be hands all over his fiancé, Pidge would be tangled up with her husband and soon-to-be baby, Hunk and his team were catering the event, and God only knows what Keith would do if he had to talk to Lance.

Say, why was that such a big deal anyways?

It didn’t matter. All Keith knew was that he didn’t want to, and given the attitude he had towards everything, he didn’t really care to change it. 

The car trip was short, but no matter, Keith stared out the window, ever wishing that it could be the sunset that he stared at with a cigarette in hand. It was the only thing that could always, without fail, stop him from feeling upset. It was a good thing that he remembered to stash a pack and a lighter in his back pocket.

“So… what’s the occasion?” A voice from ahead of him sounded.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Well, you’re dressed nice and you’re headed to a nice venue. If you don’t mind my asking, what is it?”

Keith quite minded his asking, but he tried to stop bothering with strangers. It didn't matter, he just always found little reasons to get upset.

“Oh, my best friend is getting married. Tonight is the rehearsal dinner. I’d back out tonight and just play sick or something, but I’m trying not to be the shittiest Best Man, you know?”

The driver laughed. “You sound real ecstatic.”

Scoffing, Keith redirected his head to the window. “Is it bad for me to say that I’m not?”

“I wouldn’t say so. I’m sure that you have a reason why.”

But did he? All this time he had been dreading this whole event, but for what? He was really and truly happy for Shiro and Curtis, and he was happy to accept the position he was given when Shiro had reached out. It wasn’t work, a break from that was always nice. It wasn’t people, he’s been able to see them all again here. It could be just because he chose to be angry, but he was working really hard for that stuff to not be the case anymore. So, honestly, what was it?

He was assigned at a table with the rest of the wedding court, which did not include a single person that he had ever met before. It included Curtis’ brother, his wife, their two children (which drove Keith insane) and two of Shiro’s cousins. They were around his age, at the very least, but before he sat down, he had no idea that they even existed. Matt, who would’ve been seated right beside him, was moping around in their hotel room right now. The deeper and deeper that Keith got into the night, the more and more he thought that he should’ve just done that. 

However, he would admit that it was nice to be able to chat with a lot of his old friends again. He got to hear how Hunk’s company was successful enough to open up inter-galactic catering, how Pidge’s baby shower was just around the corner (and how he could make arrangements to be there), how James had actually felt really sorry for the way that he used to treat him, and how everything seemed to be paying off for everyone.

Everyone, that is, except Lance.

Keith didn’t speak to him, but he managed to get a strong look at him. He put on a suit, had done his hair, had a glass of champagne in his hand and a smile on his face. To any other person, he looked completely normal. Yet, Keith knew him all too well. He was far skinnier than he used to be, his chin-stubble was way longer than he’d ever let it grow, his hands faltered with his glass, and his eyes looked…

Well, they looked the exact way that they did when they saw each other last. Had really nothing changed?

That's when Keith noticed something different. The little marks beneath his eyes had shifted from a baby blue to a pale grey. It was the emptiest shade of grey that he'd ever seen. It wasn't a grey that you could tell was the lack of a specific pigment, it was as if it never had one at all. The fact they were once blue troubled Keith. He honestly couldn't remember what they ever looked like.

He didn't realise how long he was staring until he noticed Lance staring right back. His heart fluttered, but only because he was caught in an awkward moment. Surely it was. What else would it have been?

Their eye contact ended just as quickly as it had started. That's when Keith decided to excuse himself for a bit. He had been in there long enough and deserved a few breaths of fresh air.

Well, of course, only fresh until he began breathing the toxic one.

His lighter took a few tries before it finally ignited (he always hated the pocket ones), but it was well worth the struggle when he was able to inhale that long and sweet first drag. As he blew it out slowly, he looked up at the sky. It was well past sundown at this point, and the scenery was absolutely breathtaking. This time, he wasn't looking at it through a screen. All of the natural features were actually there, right in front of him, and not just a mumble-jumble of pixels.

The faint chatter he could hear from the inside was soon drowned out by the crickets and cicadas. His mind was soaring, and it felt nice to let loose, even if just for a little bit.

Keith has completely lost track of time. He had no idea how long he'd been about here until somebody else came stumbling on to the porch. Tall, frail, tipsy. Of course. Who else would it have been?

“Are you alright, man? You've been out here for like, forty minutes,” his speech itself was surprisingly good for a halfway intoxicated man, but his tone gave it completely away.

“And what of it concerns you?” Keith smashed his third (fourth? fifth?) cigarette with his shoe before reaching into his pocket and lighting another one. “Go back inside. Everybody wants you in there, yeah?”

Lance pulled up the metal chair from the table adjacent to them, the screeching noise on the pavement making Keith wince and drop his freshly lit cig. He sighed, but didn't bother lighting another. He wasn't trying to get lung cancer before Shiro was married, but if he did, he wouldn't exactly be mad at the circumstances.

“I haven't really spoken to anybody more than some small talk. I came out here because you're the only person here that I haven't caught up with. Is that so much to ask?”

“As a matter of fact--”

“I wasn't asking for your opinion.”

Keith scoffed at him. “I see that you haven't changed.”

Lance was quick to retort, unsure if it was his drunkenness or sobriety shining through. “And I see that you very much have. Come on. What's going on with you?” And that's when the real reason as to Lance’s visit started pouring out. “I haven't heard from you in years. When you left, I had always thought that you and I would end up the closest. And then, you just stopped talking to me. I always assumed that you were busy, until I found out that you never left anybody else behind. You were always so caring and kind towards me. Then one day, you fled halfway across the galaxy without so much as a word. What happened? Did I do something wrong?”

“I don’t owe you anything, Lance,” Keith had ended the sentence as though he had more to say. When he began talking, he did. He wanted to talk about why. Things like how he wanted to avoid the way that he made him feel strange, about how he was spontaneous and it took energy to understand him, about how their personalities were so different that he was afraid that talking to Lance would bring him down. How for all of these reasons, not speaking to him was for Lance’s own benefit. And yet, here he was, interrogating him. Keith never had a way with words and didn’t know how to explain this to him. He figured it was just best to keep quiet. 

Lance heard the tone of the sentence and waited for Keith to continue, but eventually decided to fill the silence. “I know that you don’t. I don’t expect you to. I just thought that…” he paused, catching his breath. “Forget it. It doesn’t matter anyways.”

As he began to rise to leave, it was actually Keith that grabbed ahold of his arm. He didn’t even look at him. “What were you going to say?”

Lance rubbed his temples. “Not much. Just that I’m going through a hard time right now, and the last time that I was, you were the person who made me feel better. I wanted to see if you could help me out again, across the galaxy or not. That was it.”

Keith let go of Lance’s shirt, still refusing to turn his head. “Oh,” was all he said.

He couldn’t afford to do that. Keith never forgot that strange feeling in his chest the last time that it happened, and he avoided Lance to prevent it from happening since. He didn’t know what it was, to this day. He didn’t know a lot of things about it, but he knew from that day that he never wanted to feel it again. So when Lance proposed the question, it immediately came rushing back. It was just one night, ages ago. He should’ve forgotten it. Yet, here it was. Last time, Lance was asleep. This time, he was standing right in front of him, eyes as open as ever. 

“So…?” Lance nudged him to reply.

“No.”

“That’s it? Just ‘no?’”

“That’s it.”

Lance sighed. “I was right about this. I’m sorry for bothering you. I’m--” he stuttered, exasperated. “I’m gonna go back inside.”

Keith didn’t reply. He just heard the door shut behind him. 

This time, when he took the breath of the cigarette, it was out of sheer desperation. It reminded him of why he started using them in the first place. Normally, it would make him forget about things, but this time, it wouldn’t. He kept smashing them into the ground, breathing and lighting them quicker and quicker. He only planned on finishing because he was on his last one.

As the tears streamed down, his face remained unflinching. He wasn’t crying because of the boy. He was crying because the one thing that made him forget about him was failing him. Maybe that’s why it took him so long to realise it. Maybe it was why he was forced to realise it now.

“Goddammit, Lance,” he muttered between the hitches of his breath. “I’ve been in love with you for years.”

  
  



	6. Cold Water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoopsies! forgot to put the song of the chapter:
> 
> "ocean" by lady antebellum

The next day, Lance was up bright and early. Despite being a little hungover and a little more than dejected, he managed to get up and drag himself to his favourite yoga studio. Well, his new favourite, considering he had just moved. Whenever Lance was in the wrong headspace, exercise could always ease the tension that he carried. His normal choice would be to dance again--maybe even something peppy this morning--but Shiro’s home didn’t quite have the space he needed. Besides, it’s not like Lance didn’t have the money to spend.

Which reminded him: he was now unemployed.

It should’ve mattered to him, but in that moment, he didn’t care. Shiro had told him a new philosophy a few days ago: “Stop worrying about what will happen tomorrow; it’s going to happen anyways.” It didn’t always work that easily, but he was trying his best. This morning, it was easy to forget his troubles (partially due to the splitting headache that still lingered from last night).

The atmosphere of the yoga studio was serene. It was part of an outdoor strip mall, and did the opposite of reflecting the run-down streets it was located on. Bleach white walls dotted with neon green hanging lights. Cherry wood paneled floors with the occasional houseplant or faux-waterfall. Glass prisms that separated the different parts of the studio. The diffuser sitting on the front desk, filling the entire building with its fresh cotton scent.

It was nothing like last night.

It was perfect.

Lance checked in quietly before he dismissed himself to one of their personal cubicles. That’s what he loved so much about this place: you didn’t need to hop into a class or work with others. If you wanted, you could go in your own space and address whatever needs to you had. Each room was complete with a Bluetooth speaker, a small television, a potted succulent, clean sweat towels, and a miniature diffuser with five different scents to choose from. He hooked up his phone to play what he called his “chill” music, laid down his mat, hung a towel around his neck, and began to work.

With swift body movements, his mind could ease. It could forget the tension from last night, it could ignore the tension at the wedding tomorrow. All that mattered was right now, with his muscles working, his music playing, his thoughts slowing. If he could describe anything as a natural high, it would be this, right here. 

Minutes passed. Hours, maybe, he couldn’t tell. So many thoughts had crossed his mind, fading away as he focused on the next move. His family (he needed to speak to Roni soon, he hadn’t checked up on her since their mother’s funeral), his friends (Katie was about to have a baby, for goodness’ sake), his career (he hadn’t been to bed in over a week, and Shiro was trying his best to secure him a position), his finances (to be honest, his old apartment wasn’t great anyways, and with selling it he had more funds than to know what to do with), his love (she’s been gone for so long, anyways).

But one thought, as always, led to another. Was he looking for love again? Did he really need it? Was it that that Shiro was so desperately trying to help him find?

And with whom was he trying to have him find it?

Several names appeared in his head, disappearing almost as quickly as they had arrived. People he knew well, like Katie, Hunk, Matt, and Shiro. People he didn’t know as well, like Romelle, Acxa, Coran, or James. People who were somewhere in between that, like Keith.

Keith. It was the one name he couldn’t shake away.

Butterflies began to grow in his stomach. Suddenly, his muscles began to tense again. His “relaxation time” was now completing the exact opposite of its goal. He tried to ignore it, push the building apprehension out of his mind. Heart racing, sweat dripping, head pounding. With any possible support out of the window, this was all he had left. If this wouldn't work, what would?

Desperate, he thought that doing a complex maneuver would help to alleviate the racing. Moves like these—whether it be dance, yoga, thai chi, or any other body-aware exercise—took all of his focus. Arms on the ground, using all of this balance, he extended his legs in the air, already feeling them falter. He managed to lift them into the air, but the moment he tried to stretch them apart, they came crashing back down on him. 

He'd never failed that move before. It never failed to calm him down, and yet…

Head hurting ten times worse than before, he decided to go into the showers instead. Maybe hot steam could clear his own head like it clears the air. 

The showers there looked exactly like you’d expect them to. They had the same design as the cubicles, only smaller and complete with toiletries instead of exercise tools. Each shower had three wood-paneled walls and a bleached white shower curtain with a leaf pattern at the bottom. Anytime that Lance visited this place, he would opt to shower here instead of Shiro’s; here they had unlimited hot water, and to be honest, sharing a shower with an (almost) married couple was just weird. 

He always abused the time he got to spend here. No matter where he was in the building, he could always be unadulteratedly him. He could always focus on himself.

That is, except today.

He still didn’t understand it. Ever since their mission ended, everything in his life had been systematic. Sure, Shiro forced him into a career change, but even then life had certain consistencies. If his job changed, he was still him. He still understood his needs and how his thoughts would process them. Then, Keith came along and threw a huge wrench in that. Not to mention, it was at the most inopportune time. Why did both of these changes have to happen at the same time?

Why couldn't he stop thinking about him?  _ He rejected you twice. Stop being naïve. He doesn't care about you, goddammit. _

But there was a small voice in his head that told him that he did. If he didn't care, why would he get choked up last night? Why would he have been willing to talk to him in the first place? If he didn't care, why would he have stopped Lance to hear what he had to say when he tried shutting things down himself?

_ Why, why, why. Everything is ‘why.’ Just forget about it, forget about him, you have everything that you need right here. _

For a few minutes, that worked. The shower began to fill with steam. He tossed his head back, letting the streaming water run through his hair as the droplets built up on his skin. His muscles had strengthened, he (finally) shaved, and he’d put some of his weight back on. He was doing perfectly fine without him. In fact, he was doing better now than he was when he last had him. Everything he had, exactly where he was now, he was okay. He could just relax.

And he managed to calm himself down again, his thoughts flowing as he ran his fingers through his damp hair. It wasn’t even about anything in particular. He was so hyper-focused in his head that if you snapped him out of it, he probably couldn’t tell you about what had just crossed his mind. He thought about a book that he had read last year that made him really think about what “death” was. That made him think about his mother. That made him think about his mother’s cooking. That made him think about how much he loved her. That made him think about love. That made him think about the last time that he had had a lover’s hand on his.

And no, not one of his nightly services. A real, actual lover. Thoughts distorted, he thought about the night that Allura passed away again. It wasn’t long that he was with her, but he loved her. He really, truly, actually loved her. Had her life not ended, he would’ve spent his with her until the end. Had her life not ended, he would’ve never ended up in somebody else’s room last night.

This time, he didn’t mind the memory. It made him feel warm. It made him feel happy. He wouldn’t have let himself think about it then, after all, wouldn’t it be wrong to feel so joyful the night that your first love dies? 

He didn’t realise it, but a smile crept onto his lips. Remembering the feeling made him feel the best that he had in ages. He felt exactly the same in that room that he did when he had Allura by his side. As his mind trailed deeper, he tried remembering who accompanied him then. He could remember everything but their face… 

He turned the water cold.

There was a reason his brain wouldn’t let him remember a face. In just a flash, it gave him a name.

_ No way. No way. Fuck no. No fucking way. _

_ I’m not falling for somebody like him. Not somebody who wronged me the way that he did. _

_ Not somebody like Keith. _

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so my state is currently quarantined for the COVID-19. as i have nothing to do, i hope to get the next chapter (and possible epilogue) done sooner than later.
> 
> if you're not quarantined: don't ask to be. it mega sucks.


	7. Butterfly Kisses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song of the chapter:  
"like or like-like" by the miniature tigers
> 
> last (official) chapter! hope you guys are ready!

Shiro’s wedding was loud, and for a number of reasons. The DJ had already decided that he would blast his music so intensely that it would make your ears ring if you got too close. Because of that, people trying to talk to others had to strain their voices in order to do so. It was a recipe for disaster that nobody wanted to be part of. The reception hadn’t even started 30 minutes ago. This guy was either incompetent, or a complete asshole. 

At least, that’s what Keith had to say about it. 

Regardless of what the DJ was, he wasn’t enjoying himself.

Lance, on the other hand, was already on the dance floor in full swing, showing off what he could do. In fact, it might have been too much, considering there were—what Shrio liked to call—“impressionable children” around. Lance was enjoying himself too much to care. At least his shirt wasn’t off, right?

On the dance floor, Lance had Veronica and Hunk (even though he wasn’t all that great at dancing). At the table, Keith had Pidge and Matt (even though he wasn’t all that great at talking).

Pidge had come to sit with them after “networking” (her term, not his) with a few of the higher-ups at the Garrison. According to her, they looked “so dead it would take a retributionist to make them look lively again,” or whatever the hell that meant. Had Keith been able to, he would’ve taken a step outside to smoke, but Shiro forbade him from bringing a cigarette after he was reamed for the mess that Keith made at the rehearsal dinner. All he could do now was repine with Matt in their unrequited teenage love stories. God, this was sad. He couldn’t stop staring at him. 

_ And he can dance, too. That makes him even more attractive. _

Keith cringed at the thought. Pidge had apparently noticed.

“Okay, stop playing around. What’s going on with you, Keith?” she inquired. Keith, too lost in sorrow, didn’t hear her. Sharper, she said “Keith. Talk to me. Something is obviously wrong.”

“And that would be…?” Although the sentence was objectively rude, he was so mopey that it came across without any sort of mood, good or bad.

“Please, you’re not fooling me. You’ve been staring at him all night. Then, when he does a—” she stopped and cleared her throat. “ _ Exotic _ dance move, you suddenly cringe and turn away. Is something going on between you two?”

“Shouldn't you be more concerned with your brother’s behaviour than mine?”

“Ah, see, he’s in love with a boy that is currently having his wedding—”

“Low blow, Katie,” Matt chimed in before taking another long swig of champagne.

Pidge rolled her eyes. “As I was saying, Matt is in love with somebody already in love. You aren’t.”

“Who’s to say that I’m in love with him?”

“It would take an idiot to not notice. You’re not exactly subtle,” Keith blushed. “I think Lance is the only one who hasn’t noticed, and that’s just because he’s self-deprecating. Then again, he still slips up and calls me a boy from time to time, and I’m literally pregnant. So his insecurity might not be the entire reason.”

Keith averted his eyes to his glass of water on the table. It didn’t really work, considering he could still see her on the other side of it. He could practically feel her eyes blazing into his skin, which made him more uncomfortable than he already was. He shuffled in his seat, now looking at his shoes instead. She was right, he couldn’t deny it forever. In part, he was still denying it to himself. He wished that he didn’t have to talk about it, but he already knew how wishes went. “You really think I have a chance with him?”

“Yes! It’s so obvious! Just talk to him.”

“I’ve been so awful to him, Pidge. So awful.”

“Well, that’s something you need to take up with him, which is done by trying to have a conversation with him. Please just stop sitting here. It’s depressing.”

“Wow, isn’t somebody a happy camper?”

“I can’t drink, Keith. I’m not having a good time.”

As the night progressed on, Keith made every excuse to not talk to Lance. He told himself that he would by the end of the night, but he was running out of time. Pidge made this sound a lot easier than it actually was.

Lance, on the other hand, hadn’t stepped off the dance floor once during the night, not even to take a bite of his dinner. He was mildly intoxicated, but still conscious of what he was doing (which was, in his eyes, the best kind of drunk). Coat off, top-unbuttoned shirt, undone tie hanging from his shoulders, white wine in hand, sweat dripping down his neck and back. It was everything hoped Shiro’s wedding would be and more. Hunk had since sat down, but Veronica was still dancing with him, going strong. They’d even danced a few duets, and despite them being altercating siblings, they’d really perfected their craft together. He was laughing, singing, drinking, and best of all, wasn’t thinking about anyone except for the people that were right in front of him. Although, in Veronica’s eyes, it was alarmingly so.

“Lance!” She projected over the blasting sound above them.

“What?” He yelled back, continuing to dance without looking at her.

“You should take a break!”

“Huh? Why?”

“Because, you’ve been drinking and dancing for several hours without eating anything or sitting down! Stop stressing your body!”

“What? I can’t hear you!” He called, still refusing to stop moving.

“I said that you need to sit!”

“Aww, don’t rain on my parade, Roni! Let me have some fun! This is it, right here! Partying, smiling, and not having to think about—”

He was interrupted by a tap on his shoulder. That’s when he finally stopped and turned to look to Veronica. “Come on, I already told you to lay off.”

“I didn’t tap you, Lance.” She gestured her hand for him to turn around. When he followed her instruction, he was greeted with the last face that he wanted to see. 

The music seemed to go quiet. “Keith.”

“Can I, uh…” He paused, taking a deep breath, gulping, and rubbing his hand behind his neck. “Can I talk to you? For a second?”

“I’m listening.”

“Not… not here. Just, follow me.”

Lance obliged after Veronica gave him the nod. Keith guided him away from the roaring crowd, and although giving Lance life, it was making Keith visibly uneasy, so Lance wasn’t that upset to leave it. The fact that he was willing to go in there to get him in the first place already meant that he had something important to say, so as much as he didn’t want to, he was willing to hear it

For some reason, though, Keith was still shaking after they left the crowd. He guided Lance outside of the venue and onto a small balcony at the edge of the hotel hallway. Lance half-expected for him to pull out cigarettes again, but he just stood there. The sun was just beginning to set, and small, tiny stars began to dot the cotton candy skies. Under different circumstances, Lance would’ve found this very romantic. Those different circumstances included the person beside him reciprocating his feelings. 

They were silent for a few minutes, just inhaling the sweet air as it tousled their hair and the decorative plants beside them. When Keith spoke up, it was just small talk.

“So… how was dinner?”

“I didn’t eat.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. I was dancing. What did you think of it?”

“It was good. How’s work?”

“I’m unemployed.”

“Damn it, these are all the wrong questions,” Keith cursed under his breath.

“Yeah. They are.”

Keith didn’t reply to that.

Lance rolled his eyes. “Look, I know you didn’t ask me out here to talk about dinner and work. Especially not with your voice shaking like this. Can you please just tell me what’s going on so we can get this over with?”

His last sentence rang out in Keith’s head. Get this over with? Did he not want to be here? Was he nervous, just like Keith was? Was he mad at him?

Well, he had every right to be.

Keith sighed. “I thought you knew.”

“Why would I know? It’s not like we’ve talked.”

“That’s the point. I’m trying to talk to you now.”

“Why? Why all of a sudden? You couldn’t years ago, you couldn’t days ago, but now that’s all changed?”

Although Lance was both visibly and audibly upset, he didn’t raise his voice, nor did he change his tone. It sounded more disappointed than angry, which made it hurt so much more.

“No. It hasn’t changed. This is really hard for me. I’m nervous, I’m tired, and this is the last place I want to be. I’m fighting all of that because I have something to tell you.”

“ _ Now _ you do?”

“I— what?”

“All those years. You didn’t call. You didn’t text. Nothing. I didn’t think much of it, until I found out that everybody else heard from you just fine. Why me? Why did it have to be me that you left alone? I missed you. I was alone and afraid and you were the person that fixed all of that. You abandoned me, and I can’t figure out what I did wrong. I thought we—” he paused, as tears began to silently stream down his face. “I thought we had something.”

“We did! I mean, we do. That’s why. It doesn’t excuse it, but I avoided you because I avoided how you made me feel. I thought if I waited it out, then it would go away, but it didn’t. I saw you again and all it did was come back stronger.”

“What are you talking about, Keith?”

His reply was not immediate. The sun hung lower in the sky, making it more a reddish-purple than a pinky-orange. There were more stars now, as the last of the daylight began fading into the west. Lance clung onto the enclosing fence and continued to cry. Before he had a chance to tell him how he really felt, Lance finally broke.

“It doesn’t matter. I can’t do this. I’m sorry,” Lance blurted as he turned towards the door behind them.

“Lance, please!” Keith pleaded out of pure desperation. He didn’t come this far just to lose him all over again. He turned as fast as he could and grabbed Lance’s wrist to stop him, just like he did two nights ago.

“Then spit it out!”   


It was like a flight or fight response. He didn’t have enough time to tell, so in an adrenaline rush, he decided to show. He cupped his face and slowly leaned in. To his surprise, Lance didn’t push away. He jolted, but slowly melted into him in return, grabbing him behind his head. Keith’s heart began to race even more. The feeling was absolutely invigorating. It was hypnagogic. Being able to stand here in the setting sun, breathing in hot air, kissing Lance McClain? It was more than he ever dreamed of.

Lips parted, Keith grabbed Lance by the shoulders and (begrudgingly) pulled away.

“That’s what you had to tell me?” Lance asked, breathless.

“I didn’t know how to say it. I didn’t know if you even wanted me to. If this would go bad or wrong or leave me in even more pain. Even now, I’m scared. I don’t know what you’re going to say to me. I don’t know if you’ll have me or not, or if you’ll let me down easy or mercilessly or not let me down at all. I don’t know anything and it scares the  _ shit _ out of me, Lance. I don’t really do the ‘people’ thing.”

Lance was uneasier now. “You’re— you’re not messing with me, are you? This isn’t just a fling?”

“I—no—why would it be?”

“That’s all that ever happens. I don’t want it to happen again. Not with somebody that I actually care about.” Lance was gazing at the floor, visibly trying to keep his composure as his breath quickened. “I’ve gone through a lot since you’ve left. I’m far from perfect. I don’t want you to take me, see who I really am, and then forget about me. I can’t lose you again, Keith. Especially if what we have is real.”

Keith’s tone sounded almost paternal. “Hey, hey, stop that. I already made that mistake, and I already saw what it did to me. I wish I never did it.”

“But you did. You did do it.”

“And it was the worst mistake I ever made. I swear, I’m not going to ever do it again.” He kissed him again, shorter and softer this time. “I’m in love with you, Lance. Always have been, always will be.”

That’s when he noticed it. The tiny marks under Lance’s eyes, once blue, once grey, were now changing tones again. As Keith held him close, their colour began to return. They developed into a warm, vibrant violet, almost identical to the sky that they shared. 

“Lance, your Altean marks. They’re—”

“I know, they’re grey. It just goes to show everything I’ve been through, huh?”

“No, they’re purple.”

“Huh?” Lance said, pulling out his phone to look at himself. “Would you look at that?” He rotated his head and touched his face in admiration. “I’ve got colour again, Keith! I’ve got colour!”   


Keith smiled at him. “Purple butterflies.”

“Butterflies?”   


“That’s what you called them the day you got them. You told me they looked like butterflies.”

“Oh my Lord, you’re right.” And they laughed together. Lance pulled Keith into a tight hug, burying his face into his shoulder, fighting back tears and laughter and so many other things his heart was full of. When he stood there, holding him tight, they didn’t need to say anything. The colour in his cheeks only proved that it was always meant to be this way. 

“Thank you,” Lance said without letting go.

“For what?

“For giving me back my purple butterflies.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't worry, an epilogue will be up soon. i don't have anything else to do. i'm still stuck inside. now that the CDC has released that asthmatics are at high risk, my mom won't let me out of the house at all. i hope you guys can read this and get a little bit happier for a tiny portion of your day. i need a bit of help though: i can't decide if i want to do a one-part or two-part epilogue. one-part would be one/two years later and two-parts would around a month later and then a year later. i can't really decide if i want to break them down or blend them together. i'm leaning towards one-part, but definitely give me some input.
> 
> thanks everybody! remember to stay clean and healthy ❤️


	8. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song of the chapter: "falling like the stars" by james arthur.  
"strawberries and cigarettes" by troye sivan was a close second, so if the first song finishes, give it a whirl.

The first night that Lance and Keith spent together wasn’t exactly ideal.

It only happened because somebody lost their life. Lance, alone, afraid, went to the only person that he knew wouldn’t treat him with any pity because of the day’s events. That night was a saviour. It was the reason that he managed to get through the days following. Although he didn’t always realise it, the memory of the support he got then could always keep him pushing through hard times. It was what he always wanted. Something that he would have never found if he didn’t have to lose someone in the process.

Under different circumstances, the first night that Lance and Keith spent together would’ve been romantic.

But it wasn’t. And Keith reprimands himself each and every day for not realising it. For the fact that the very idea of it frightened him so much that he ran away. That he put the both of them through hell, even though it was something that they both wanted. The entire time that Lance was there, he was sure not to touch him. Then, he wasn’t sure why. Every single day, he regrets that he wasn’t able to figure it out then.

The first night that Lance and Keith spent together caused problems.

In reality, it did more harm than good. All it did was separate them for years on end, alone. Years that could’ve been better spent together. It drove Keith to addiction, Lance to depression, and both of them to despondency. There might have been a reason that the universe wanted them worlds apart for so many years, yet they couldn’t figure it out. There was a lot about the two of them that could be blamed on the single night that they slept in the same room. 

The nights that they spend together don’t look like that anymore.

Now, they look much different. They look like late nights out on the town, both crashing at one place because they’re too fatigued to go separate ways. They look like evenings laughing together with Netflix and popcorn. They look like a tangle on arms and legs under a blanket, where the only thing on the itinerary is to hold each other until they can’t anymore. They look like bruises on necks and thighs that sometimes show up the next morning. 

They look happy.

Although still living in separate apartments, they stayed together more than they stayed apart. For a “honeymoon phase,” theirs was quite long. As they were now both working at the Garrison, it didn’t take long for their students to figure out what was going on between them. Not that any of them minded. According to some of the older kids, ever since Shiro and Curtis got married, they haven’t been able to gossip about couples anymore. Of course, students accepting their relationship solely to spread rumors wasn’t ideal, but it humoured them, so they let them continue regardless. It was nice being open about their relationship. 

Lance, coming from a traditional family, struggled towards the beginning of their relationship. However, after Veronica gave them her support, it didn’t take long for everybody else to soon follow. Krolia was nothing but supportive from the start; she said that she couldn’t be happier that her son had someone to spend the rest of his life with. Although they weren’t anywhere near marriage, they both had an unspoken agreement with her statement. 

Of course, not everything was easy. Getting Keith to quit smoking was no easy feat, and his withdrawal episodes almost put an end to things on several occasions. Lance’s past made intimacy difficult at first, as he had to go about things at a very slow pace. Yet, they worked with each other. They built a relationship on the foundation that things would be worked on together. They didn’t have to struggle alone anymore. They have—and will always have—each other. 

The first night that they spent together was almost completely forgotten. They had replaced the memory with the new evenings they share.

Evenings much like the one shared last night.

It was Lance’s turn to host his counterpart, and he made it especially romantic. Not in a  _ candlelit-dinner-and-merlot _ kind of way, but in a  _ I-love-you-so-much-and-I’m-going-to-make-sure-that-you-know  _ kind of way. The specific way that only they two shared. It included lots of inside jokes (“You thought my name was Taylor until we saved Shiro.” “You literally called yourself ‘the tailor.’ What was I supposed to think?”), dancing (“ _ Mi amor _ , it’s right, then left.”), late night chats (“How different do you think life would be if we never met the Lions?” “Oh my god, Keith, go to bed.”), and the half-whispered I-love-yous as they dozed off in each other’s arms (“I’m yours, I’m yours, I’ll always be yours.”).

Keith awoke the morning following to light shining through the windows. He tossed and turned, stuck in that strange, not-quite-awake, not-quite-asleep state of being. He was fully aware that it was daylight, but it was way too early for a Saturday, and he didn’t want to get up just yet. Unfortunately, the bleeding sunlight made that an issue. Hadn’t Lance shut his blackout curtains last night? Either he had some garbage curtains or Keith was simply insane. Neither of them seemed out of the ordinary. 

“Lance…” Keith mumbled, simply flipping his face from one side of the pillow to the other instead of lifting it. He was laid on his stomach, head buried in the lovely bamboo pillow that Lance always reserved for him to sleep on. His hair was sprawled down to the almost-midsection of his back, as he wasn’t bothered to put it in it’s usual wrap (Lance claimed that if he wanted to keep it so long, he had to take care of it). “Lance,” he said, much more coherently, blindly reaching an arm out to nidge him. Still searching, he muttered “Please shut the curtains. It’s so early.”

There was no response. 

He adjusted his head just enough so that he could open his eyes and inspect the situation. After they finally focused, he was quick to realise that Lance wasn’t there. He couldn’t have gotten up too recently; his imprint was still in the mattress, but he must’ve been gone for some time now. Keith groaned and flipped back to his initial side and covered his face with his pillow before there was a knock in the doorway. 

“Good. You’re awake. I thought I heard you rustling,” Lance appeared in the door, one hand leaning against the wood and the other dangling at his side, fingers wrapped loosely around a spatula. Keith replied with a less than pleasant sound.  _ “Ven acá, _ breakfast is in the kitchen.” 

Now that Lance knew that Keith was awake, he played music as he continued to prepare breakfast. Keith recognised the tune as a song that he played frequently: “Lo Tenga o No.” He truly had no idea what the song was saying, but he adored when Lance sang it. His tone was rich, and anytime he heard him belt out the riffs and runs, he’d absolutely melt. Before he started dating him, he never would’ve guessed how good of a singer he was. No matter how much he told him to go somewhere with his voice, he’d always shrug it off and say it was just a hobby. He always claimed that it was only for Keith to hear, and while absolutely honoured, he felt undeserving.

Keith would never understand how he managed to end up with somebody like Lance. Why, of all the people that he could have, he chose him. Hey, he certainly wasn't complaining.

He was a hell of a cook, too. He did it less now that he was employed full-time, but that just made it all the more special. So, when the aroma of his awaiting meal finally reached the room, it didn't take long for him to get up.

Lance beamed when he saw him. Keith always got weird when Lance stared at him. It was never in a strange way, he just wanted to look at him. Yet, Keith always got flustered and told him to stop. When Keith was still in his “waking-up” phase, he could look at him all he wanted. He could admire every part of him, and nobody could object to it. It was just him and his beautiful partner that he got to adore each and every day. Lance was very much the romantic type, and he made sure that Keith would never forget it. Not that either of them minded.

“Morning,” Keith spoke through a yawn, going behind Lance and kissing his cheek. His eyes still weren't fully opened, and all his words were slightly slurred. “You’re up early.”

Lance paused what he was doing at the stove to pick up the warm mug on the counter beside him. “Coffee?” he inquired. Keith nodded and let out a small hum of agreement before taking the mug and sitting at the table. It was still hot, and prepared just how he liked it. 

“I will never understand how you manage to be so peppy in the morning,” Keith murmured, as the music volume had since been turned down in order to have a conversation, Lance still muttering the words under his breath. Lance chuckled at his comment, eyes not breaking from the pan in front of him.

“Well, it’s certainly not because I pour Monster in my coffee, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“Dear God, I hope you don’t. I don’t know how you’d still manage to be alive.”

Lance smiled widely, knowing that Keith couldn’t see him. “I can’t say that I haven’t thought about it before. Realistically, though, my family always had these massive family breakfasts every single morning, even before school. I guess I’m just used to waking up early, even if I’m still rolling around in bed,” Lance took the pan off of the heat, plating the freshly made omelet and setting it in front of Keith at the table. “Anything else you want?”

Keith shook his head and began to take small bites of his food. Once Lance finished preparing himself a bowl of fruit, yogurt, and granola, he sat parallel to him at the table.

Keith took a break from his plate and looked at Lance, finally with fully opened eyes. “While your breakfast is delicious, I thought that we promised that we wouldn’t do anything big—”

“But, this is me we’re talking about,” Lance retorted before he even finished. He knew what he was going to say. “I wanted to surprise you. Breakfast is just the beginning. I’ve got a whole day planned for us.”

Lance’s response caused the other boy to smirk and lower his head. “I should’ve known you’d never agree to something like that, huh?”

“Never.”

“So, tell me about your plans.”

“What part of ‘surprise’ don’t you understand? Today is a big deal, I’m not going to spoil it over your eggs. Be patient. I promise you’ll enjoy it.”

Lance really did have a big day planned for the two of them. Well, not insanely extravagant, but enough for it to be more than just a normal day of hanging out. He’d take him to the botanical gardens, use his tickets for a new movie, have lunch, and have a night out on the town with him. What was he supposed to do? Let a day as important as today go to waste?

“You’re not proposing, are you?” Keith teased.

“As much as you would adore that, no, I’m not,” he replied. And the answer was truthful, he did not plan on proposing today. Although, when he did, it would probably look very similar to this. But, he wanted to do it on a day that didn’t already matter. Then, they’d have two special days to celebrate.

As anybody could tell, Lance had already put a lot of thought into this.

He swallowed his last bite of food and began to clean up his plate and silverware, placing them in the sink before standing behind Keith’s chair. He put his arms around his torso and rested his head in the juncture between his neck and shoulder. 

Keith stifled a laugh before twisting his shoulders in an attempt to get Lance off of him. “Lance, I need you to get off. I have to finish breakfast.”

“Fine,” Lance complied. “I need to get ready anyways.”

He got up, dusted himself off, and stretched before taking Keith’s chin in his hands and moving his head back. He pressed a soft kiss on his forehead and playfully shoved it back down. 

“Happy two-year anniversary, you big lug.”

“Likewise, you tease.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this story started as a small concept that i had last november. this started as a 300 word chapter on my voltron shitdrafting document. it was a completely random idea that i thought would turn out pretty and symbolic. i had no idea where to go with it or if it would even continue. yet, i ran with the punches. i hadn’t written anything but one-shots in several years, but something in my brain told me to keep going. in its early phases, it was supposed to be a shot with around 3,000 words, but it even exceeded those expectations. it turned from an edgy tumblr plot on a larger document full of random things to a 40 page document full of everything i’ve ever done with it. i’ve dabbled in fanfiction for years, but this was my first real step into discovering my creativity. it certainly isn’t the best, but i’ll always love it. now that it’s over, i hope that you will too. thanks for stopping by purple butterflies <3
> 
> p.s. i’m thinking about publishing a second work with all the chapters/segments that i ended up either reworking or completely scrapping (maybe even some of my notes and reasons too). tl;dr: “purple butterflies in its truest form.” would any of you be interested in that?
> 
> p.p.s. i used two symbols for parallels between keith and lance (besides their colours), and what happened once they blended together. any guesses?


End file.
